A Сфмpℓєx Cфnunđяuм
by Rachelle Lo
Summary: Title: A Complex Conundrum. There are three things Artemis Fowl hates more than anything else in the world: prison, lollipops, and psychologists. And he's got two of the three at the moment.
1. Prologue, For Lack of a Better Name

A BRIEF AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, actually, I don't have anything at the moment...but I might need to later, so I'll just keep this little area roped off...

Wait, I remember--I was going to say sorry for a short first chapter. So....sorry. (And it's technically not a chapter, it is a _prologue.) _It's not angst. At least I don't think it is, anyway...We need more laughter in this world, dang it!

Also remembering--story also correlates w i t h m y o t h e r s t o r y βГοΚεŋ , a l t h o u g h i t i s n o t _t e ch n i c a l l y _a s e q u e l . I m i g h t j u s add it to this one, matter of fact...What just happened to that line? Wow...I'm not even going to mess with it...

Presenting a story that was very fun to write (and not yet completed, I believe, depending on response--and I'm not pressuring at all)...

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A Сфмpℓєx Cфnunđяuм

Prologue

* * *

When you peel away all of your outside layers, what is left?

Take it all away....

What's on the inside of your own mind?

_What do I want? Riches? Family? Friends?_

_Normalcy? Trust?_

_Recognition?_

_What do I want? Why don't I know?_

_My own mind can torment itself. _

A rush of breath echoed inside of Artemis's ears, and he wondered for a moment at the sound, before realizing it was his own sighing.

_There I go again,_ he thought. _Introspection. My own mind tries to dissect itself. Impossible, at my intellectual level. _

_It takes all of my skills to analyze myself. Therefore, I am constantly thwarting my own attempts._

_A circle. A conundrum._

He glanced for a moment at the camera, his jawline touching the wall behind him. The camera---a small red dot in the far corner--constantly relayed messages to the guards stationed outside of the main prison cell area. No doubt, it was also tranferring a live feed to a distant monitor---most likely, Foaly's.

A small muscle twitched in Artemis's eye.

He vaguely hoped that Doctor Argon or whatever babbling psychologist the People employed nowadays would not watch his tapes---although it was a vain hope. Eye twitching and sighing aloud....oh dear, what _was _Fowl coming to....

They were probably eager to stereotype another genius with a syndrome of some sort.

Flicking his hazel and blue eyes to the side, Artemis turned his gaze to his cellmate.

Opal Koboi had been branded with _OCD. _Fitting---in fact, _anytime_ the pixie moved, her hair would shift slightly, and her fingers would automatically comb the strands back into the exact same position. OCD, along with a Narcissus complex.

Although obsessive compulsive disorder was probably an accurate description, Artemis detested the thought of sticking such a basic illness---an _oversimplified preconception---_on such great minds as theirs.

Such a simple label. It was insulting.

_And that, _thought Artemis sourly, _probably constitutes that I also have an superiority complex. Obviously I hold all others---excepting genii---in low esteem._

Introspection. Again.

He sighed aloud, once again, and lay his head back on the cool metal.

_What is it? What do I want?_

_What's on the inside of your own mind?_

A circle. Conundrum...

_When you peel away all your outside layers...._

_

* * *

_

.-----------.

"Rice!" said Doctor J. Argon, a professor in the Brotherhood of Psychology. "Come quickly!"

"Yes, Doctor?" Reece asked tiredly, setting down her pen.

As she walked over to Argon's plushy armchair, Reece straightened her purposefully crooked tie. It was a fashion thing. But she wouldn't let it cost her job.

"Look!" he squealed, tapping the screen excitedly. "Look! Look right....right there!"

Reece blinked.

"Isn't it amazing, Rice?" he said.

"Yes, Doctor," she said aloud. Inside, she was sighing.

_How in the world did he come up with Rice?_ "Reece" wasn't exactly the most feminine name, but honestly, it wasn't that hard to remember. Rice, _really_....she wasn't a gourmet food. She didn't even like chopsticks.

"And---look! Again! Why are you standing over here? Go! Write it down!" He waved a hand impatiently, never tearing his eyes from the screen.

"Yes, Doctor." It seemed like she said that a lot. She went back to her notebook of doodles and opened to a clean page.

"Now, watch carefully..." murmured Argon to no one in particular, waving a finger. "It's possible these are the early symptoms of generalized anxiety disorder....obsessive-compulsive disorder....And not to mention finally proof of pathological lying for the Brotherhood," he muttered the last part to himself, then continued listing. "Post-traumatic stress disorder....unlikely, but possible, bipolar disorder..."

Reece nodded, her braid bobbing, and scribbled furiously.

Argon leaned forward, pressing his nose to the screen.

"It's just a little twitch, but that's always a sign, Rice, always a sign..."


	2. 1: It's a Small World

A/N: Dear readers, there is such a thing called a Dead Author.

This is a specific type of author. Not a good one. This Dead Author refuses to communicate to the readers in anything but story form. No author's notes, no gratitude.

Dead Author _refuses to respond to reviews. _

Sadly, I've been a Dead Author lately. While I have very reasonable excuses (life, etc.), it is still a fact that I haven't been responding to reviews.

Now, I know that some authors don't do this. But it is kind of nice to realize, as a reviewer (I know from personal experience), that the author is grateful and _shows it._

And here is the part that I apologize, and tell all of you that I am very much Alive.

Thanks to: **crazykittylover**, **Spritesinthehouse** (thank you so much giving me a detailed desciption of what you liked! I never really though of my writing as detailed.), **WolfRaisins**, **Renata Swift **(thanka), **seleenermparis **(who left a lovely pick-me-up), **JL724 **(although I don't really know if you were sarcastic or not, ha ha), **music4evah** (Thank you so much, and Argon is a psychologist, so he's called doctor), **TexasDreamer01** (an anonymous reviewer), and **myheartstillbleedsforyou** (thank you muchas, cute review!)

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.---------.

A Сфмpℓєx Cфnunđяuм

Chapter 1: It's a Small World

.--------.

* * *

When Holly decided to go for a lunch break, all she'd wanted was a nice, relaxing stroll through Haven.

She'd wanted to savor the delicious aroma of fast-food grease, vehicle fumes, and the occasional mushroom. She'd wanted to hum Broadway show tunes down 32nd avenue, feeling the artificial light warm her skin. All she'd wanted was to get away from her cluttered office—courtesy of Major promotion—and the smell of elf dandruff shampoo.

But, being a member of the world as she knew it, she obviously didn't get it.

As she rounded a corner, carrying a little to-go box of rice and mushrooms, she saw flashing red and blue lights. Police cruiser. Which of course sent her cop senses tingling. Never a good sign.

A car wreck, was it? Or the fairy equivalent of a car wreck, what with the new floating magnetic cars and all?

She shuddered. _That could be nasty._

As she walked closer, she gradually began to make out the details.

Two vehicles—thankfully not crushed or bent or hurt at all—one a civilian van and the other a police cruiser. Both were pulled over to the side of, luckily enough, a not very crowded street.

Mentally, she sighed with relief. No one looked hurt. Still, she was a proud member of the Lower Elements Police. It was her duty, as Major, to go and assist the situation anyway she could.

_Even if, _she thought, ever the martyr, _I'm late for that mountain of paperwork waiting for me back at headquarters._

She heard voices from the two vehicles pulled to the side of the road.

"I swear to drunk I'm not Frond, officer!" slurred the civilian, holding onto the steering wheel with unfocused eyes. "I swear..."

_Sprites, _thought Holly. _Always so articulate._

"Get out the vehicle," said the officer— also a sprite, it looked from this angle. Probably a Traffic cop.

"I swear to drunk...I'm not Frond..."

"You swear to drunk, eh? That's a new one." He snickered. "Just step out the van so we can do a DWI test."

"Swear... 'm not....Fr..."

And at that, the civilian sprite passed out.

"Need any help, officer?" Holly said, coming within hearing range.

The officer turned quickly at the sound of a female voice, chest immediately swelling. Sprites, you know. "Thank you, miss," he said, "but I have everything under con—_Holly_?"

"Huh?" Holly said intelligently, taken aback.

She hadn't seen him in a while, but...

"It _is _you!" exclaimed Chix Verbil. "Captain Holly, I'd know you anywhere!"

"It's Major now, actually," said Holly, a little miffed. She'd forgotten how Chix was.

He wasn't listening. "We meet everywhere, don't we?" he mused thoughtfully. "It must be a sign..."

"Since when are you in Traffic?" Holly jumped in hurriedly.

"Oh, uh, two weeks."

"And don't you need to get that sprite somewhere?" Holly rushed on. Dominating the conversation meant that Chix would have less chance of getting in more romantic quips. "You can't just leave him in the car, and I don't think he's going to wake up any time soon."

"Yeah, I—"

"Excellent work, Private!"

"You're—"

"Carry on! It's been nice talking to you, but I've got to get to Foaly's!" And at that, she began walking off with false bravado.

"Holly!" Chix cried, somewhat desperately. "Just a second—"

And at that moment, luckily enough, her communicator beeped.

HOLLY, it scrawled across the screen, MEET ME IN OPS BOOTH. ASAP. PLEASE. —FOALY.

A small, relieved smile broke over her face. _Well, at least now I don't have to lie about it, _she thought. _I really do have to get to Foaly's. _She glanced down at the take-out box in her hand. _And I guess I can eat on the way, _she thought mournfully_._

"Holly—"

She glanced up at Chix, who was looking at her with puppy-eyes.

"Sorry, Chix," she said cheerfully, not sorry at all. "Urgent business. Possible saving the world and all that."

His eyes bugged. "Really—?"

"Gotta go," she chirped, and nearly skipped off— if that was possible for a proud member of the LEP—leaving a sputtering Chix Verbil in her wake.

_Today, _she thought, humming a snatch of tune from a random Broadway musical, _really is a good day._

Which of course jinxed the rest of it.

Because, obviously, she was Holly Short. Things were never simple. Not even lunch break.

* * *

Despite being a demon warlock, universally acknowledged as one of the most prestigious and intelligent magical creatures of the fairy world, sometimes N°1 was very confused.

Like now, for instance.

_What is that supposed to mean? _he thought. He reviewed the memory planted in his cranium again. And again. And again...

First was the gorilla, as always....

Then the blood. N°1 shuddered, as always...

He'd looked dead, and the first time N°1 had seen the memory, his heart had plummetted down to his tail, despite the fact that he knew, in the end, Artemis had lived...

Then Holly came. Frightened. Horrified. Panicked. She'd thought he was dead too...

But then her magic sparked. As always.

Healing. Relief.

And then _that. _

N°1 didn't know what to make of it. Mystified. Puzzled. What could it mean? Scratch that, he knew what it meant, but _why? _

Holly and Artemis...who would have thought...

Again, he began to watch the memory. It scrolled around, in a loop, around and around, like a children's ride. No amount of reviewing seemed to give him any insight.

He was confused.

As always.

* * *

"And she _finally_ arrives ," Foaly scolded, crossing his arms, but with a smirk. "Late. As usual."

"It's called 'fashionably late,'" Holly retorted. She didn't hurry her pace at all—actually, she went slower, casually walking into the computer area.

Still supremely casual, she hopped onto a tabletop and sat, legs dangling above the floor. "And your _paranoia_ doesn't help," she said, opening her take-out box.

"Section Eight is a top-secret area," Foaly replied innocently. "Top-of-the-line security is a necessity."

"I had 6 eye scans, 14 fingerprint scans, and _ear _scan, and 3 virus-killing showers," she griped.

"You counted?" Foaly asked.

"They even checked my lunch for nuclear weapons!" She brandished her take-out box in Foaly's face.

"That _is_ a little much," Qwan commented from a corner, where he and N°1 sat comfortably. N°1 managed a smile, nothing more.

"Now my food tastes wierd," Holly complained, stuffing a rice ball in her mouth. "What'd they do to it?"

"Erm—laser scans," Foaly said. "They, ah, might have messed up their molecular structure."

"Wh—?"

"Enough!" shouted a female voice as Holly opened her mouth.

At Qwan's left, Wing Commander Vinyaya slapped a hand to the table. "Did you call us here to discuss Major Short's lunch?" she asked pointedly, in a much more polite tone.

"Is everyone present?" Qwan looked around.

"Vinyaya...Qwan...N°1...Holly...." Foaly counted. "...myself...And Mulch couldn't make it. Other than that, the gang's all here."

"Yeah, Mulch's out with Doodah, busting criminals...." Holly trailed off. Something that sounded suspiciously like 'lucky idiots' was muttered under her breath.

"Oh, and Trouble couldn't fit us into his busy schedule, " Foaly said. "He's going to learn the hard way that all the important stuff happens around us."

"_What is_ so _important_ that a Commander would need to come?" Vinyaya sighed impatiently and tapped a finger.

"Well, _you're _here," Foaly pointed out. "Wing Commander."

Vinyaya's finger tapped faster, staccato beats on the tabletop. It was like Root's habit of cigars and yelling, except more feminine. It was a Commander thing. They all needed stress outlets.

"Oh, disgusting!" Holly spat out a mushroom into her box. "_That's _what's wrong with it!"

She pulled out her Neutrino (Foaly nearly ducked, remembering the security scans), fiddled with the stun settings, and pointed it at the grey soggy chunk.

"It went cold," she mumbled through a mouthful. Spearing the steaming, crispy, delectable mushroom on her fork, she chewed happily.

"You aren't supposed to use standard equipment for—" Foaly started dutifully.

"ENOUGH!"

Vinyaya stood up in her seat, looking remarkably composed, despite having just yelled at top volume. "It's amazing you people get anything done at all, let alone saving the People!" she cried, exasperated. "For Frond's sake, just tell us why we're here!"

_She was Julius's classmate, _thought Holly, remembering. "Come on, Foaly," she said aloud.

Foaly took a deep breath, suddenly serious.

"All right," he said, clip-clopping over to the plasma television. He pressed a small button, and a bluish picture of a city that looked very similar to Haven appeared.

"At 3:45 this morning," Foaly said, "Atlantis had an emergency electricity black-out. They were probed."


	3. 2: Tiniest Bit of a Sweetness

A Сфмpℓєx Cфnunđяuм

Chapter 2: Tiniest Bit of a Sweetness

-----

* * *

There was an appropriate period of silence after this statement.

Shock. Very brief shock. Most of these people were used to dramatic declarations. Being Artemis Fowl© characters made then immune, mostly.

"They......" Vinyaya put a hand to her lips. "Dear Frond...a probe..."

A _probe _meant that a non-fairy satellite had picked up on fairy civilization. It hadn't been predicted to happen for another 300+ years, by Foaly's calculations. If such a satellite were to come near Haven or Atlantis, the two cities would automatically turn off all electricity to minimize risk.

"It was a short alarm," said Foaly, as if that made it better. "Barely ten minutes without electricity."

"Was this like the Fowl probing? I heard this has happened before, to Haven," Qwan interjected suddenly. Of course, Qwan hadn't been present at the time; he'd heard it second-hand. Had a good ale at the time, too.

Holly looked up sharply, hair swinging. "Artemis!" she spat angrily.

"Possibly," Foaly said.

"I thought we were done with the C-Cube!" Holly hissed, jumping off the table-top with clenched fists.

"Calm down, keep your hair on," Foaly said, which wasn't the wisest response. Under the circumstances.

"He better have a _good explanation for this--!"_

"C-Cube?" N°1 asked curiously.

"--_or I'm going to kill him and--"_

"Artemis created a little cute computer using scraps of fairy technology," Foaly explained. "Gave us a scare."

"C-Cube..." musedN°1. He thought about what Foaly had said. And took it quite literally. "Stands for...Cute-Cube...?"

"--_Neutrino his--"_

"Holly!" Foaly yelled.

The elf stopped abruptly in mid-rant. Foaly _never _yelled. Unless under extreme circumstances.

"I don't understand why you're so....so...." Foaly struggled for the word. "_Angry_! At Artemis! For something we don't even know he did! If I didn't _know _better, you're feeling betrayed."

Holly spoke through stiff lips. "Foaly, I'm n--"

She stopped. What could she say?

An inferno of emotions spun inside her--fury, mostly fury, but now a small bit of that was pointed at herself. Of course, Holly had never been the touchy-feely type, and didn't notice the rest of it. There was also a small, half-realized fear, a touch of sadness, and the tiniest bit of a sweetness she couldn't identify.

_I'm too quick to assume it's Artemis, _she thought with a realization of guilt. _Foaly's right--how do I even know he had anything to do with it?_

"And," Foaly said, quieter, "Does it really matter that much? If I'm right--and I usually am--you two don't share much love lately."

N°1 started suddenly, then stilled himself as Foaly continued.

"You haven't even spoken to him for over three months," Foaly said.

There was a silence.

Holly worked her mouth wordlessly, trying to say something.

Everyone in the room--Vinyaya, Qwan, N°1---watched with fascination as the scene unfolded. This was better than the PPTV reruns. Everything was frozen, and literally you could hear a pin drop. If pins hadn't been banned from Section 8 as a security risk.

_It's been that long? _Holly thought.

Her guilt was stronger now. If she wasn't careful, it would drag her under and drown her slowly--as a fortune cookie had once told her.

And Holly Short was not about to break down in broad public.

"You monitor my calls?" she tried to accuse.

"I'm just saying, Holly," Foaly said, shrugging apologetically, "that you're too quick to condemn him. For past actions."

And that hit home with double meaning.

"We are _not_ having this conversation," Holly growled. "Not right now. We're over the lemur thing."

The other occupants in the room--the ones not involved in the drama---whipped their heads around from speaker to speaker like it was ping pong match. A very interesting verbal ping pong match.

_But wait_, they thought collectively--excepting N°1 of course, _what lemur thing?_

Abruptly, Foaly switched from the offensive to the peace-maker. He held up his hairy palms.

"Alright, Holly," he sighed. "Alright. Let's concentrate on the current trouble. Shall we?"

"Fine," Holly said bitingly.

Once again, she perched herself on top of a table, and began stabbing her mushrooms and rice savagely. She chewed so that she didn't have to speak, or reply to questions she couldn't answer. Slowly, her anger slipped away.

_Three months. _Had it really been that long?

She hadn't meant to....but everything so busy...

Who was she kidding? Why lie to herself?

She'd needed a break. That's what is was. A break from saving the world, a break from getting into life-or-death situations (and occasionally, dying), a break from the trolls that she seemed to encounter everyone she went.

A break from _everything. _

A few tears treacherously stung her eyes, but luckily no one saw them before she oh-so-casually brushed them away.

And while she was on it, a break from _time-travelling, _a break from long-buried memories reemerging_,_ a break from betrayals, lost trusts, of loss....and---and---stinking elf dandruff shampoo, and regrets, and pixies, and---and----

Artemis. And all the stupid emotions and adventures that came with him.

Sometimes it was all too much, and every time they met another emergency was one their hands. Some part of her irrationally thought that a little break from him would give them some temporary peace.

Well, that had _worked, _hadn't it_._

"Atlantis is requesting a full inquiry," Foaly said, reading the data scrolling across the screens. "By all intelligence agencies..."

"Hold that," Vinyaya interrupted. "All of them? Section 8 is about all we've got."

"Sorry....Inquiry _of _all intelligence agencies...._of _M16, CIA, blah blah blah...." He pressed a few keys and muttered to himself. Not a good sign.

"Can't we simply contact Artemis?" asked Qwan. "We could see if it was him. And the C-Cube."

"Double-check," N1 agreed.

Foaly scratched his chin and thought about that. It took 2.56 seconds for him to come up with an answer.

"Sure," he said. "Might as well. It could save us a lot of time."

Immediately, he began to busy himself with building a long-range communication link--directly to Artemis's computer. If the Mud Boy was in his study--which he almost always was---he'd pick up a live feed straight from his laptop.

They could simply talk to each other (and/or accuse each other, scream, lie, etc.) from Section 8 to Fowl Manor over a secure channel, on their computers.

"Now?" Holly said, not smiling. Apprehensive.

"It's a good a time as any," Foaly said. A hint of a smug grin nearly made it to his lips.

----------

* * *

**FOWL MANOR**

**Three Days Previously**

It was beautiful music. You didn't have to be a musical _virtuoso _to realize that, although Butler could name someone who was_. _And that someone was playing.

A sweetly layered rendition of _Canon in D_ echoed through the upper rooms of Fowl Manor.

Everyone in the house found themselves smiling. It was good to hear Artemis play the piano again. It seemed like the music room had been silent for too long, although it had only been a year....hadn't it? For some of the Fowl family, anyway...

Artemis, for his part, was happy. How could he not be? He was playing a nine-foot Fazioli. The expensive Italian piano brand known for its lush tone quality, as well as futuristic design based on ocean waves, was stunning. Although he rather missed the old baby grand, at times.

A content smile relaxed Artemis's face, a rare moment. His fingers darted through a quick succession of notes, the final complicated chords ringing with impressive speed.

Ending the peace with the last trailing chords, he sat back. His fingertips tingled from his insanely fast playing----the tingling self-caused and strangely pleasant.

Outside of the room, he heard a few footfalls.

"Butler?" he called, and corrected himself. "Domovoi?"

"Yes, Artemis." Butler stepped inside of the room casually. He'd been passing through. "I'm here."

"All right," Artemis said, sliding off of the bench and walking softly over. He came to a stop beside Butler and craned his head upward to meet his eyes. Artemis had always been short for his age, and seemed even smaller to those who thought he was eighteen."Lovely piece, is it not?"

"Yes. Pachelbel, isn't it?"

"Yes. A true piece of genius--" he smiled at that "--in my opinion. Such simple chords, that strike just the right emotions."

"A touch of sadness," Artemis continued, gazing up at the ceiling. "A small, half-realized fear....and...."

He stopped and continued softly.

"The tiniest piece of a sweetness you can't identify..."

Artemis shut his eyes, closing his lost expression.

The bodyguard leaned down and spoke in low tones. He spoke confidentially, low enough to thwart any pesky eaves-droppers. Particularly the ones under four feet and loved coffee.

"It's one of those times, isn't it?" Butler said. He laid a massive hand on the boy's shoulder and gently guided Artemis through the doorway."How long do think this will last?"

"I don't know..." Artemis said, opening his mismatched eyes. "It's frustrating. I _know..._there's _something _I'm forgetting, but I can't recall it." He let out a brief spurt of laughter. "There's _something _wrong, but I can't diagnose it......But--Domovoi, do you think..."

Butler took in a deep breath.

"Should we contact them?" Domovoi asked.

For a second, Artemis's face froze and his lips worked soundlessly.

"Do....do you think they could do anything?" Artemis said. "If they even _would?_ They don't trust me."

"I..." Butler chose his words carefully. "Well, they are a forgiving people. I think they would think differently, if they knew what's happening. To you."

There was silence for a moment.

"We should probably contact them," Butler restated. "They could help." _Possibly._

The teenager didn't reply to that, at least not directly. Domovoi could see in Artemis's eyes that he didn't really believe that help could come. Not that it _wouldn't, _but that there was simply no possible way it _could...._

_And he's always been so independent, Artemis, _Domovoi thought. _He's never opened himself to someone else. Never enough. _

That's why Artemis had had to trick Holly into helping him heal his mother, Butler had realized. It was because he'd never really relied on someone else completely enough to simply _trust _that they'd do whatever it took to help him.

Maybe Holly would have helped him without manipulation. Maybe she wouldn't have. In Artemis's eyes, he couldn't take chances, even if it completely killed any trust between Holly and him.

He'd do anything it took to save the people close to him. Even if they hated him for it.

"The problem with trust," Artemis said suddenly, averting his eyes, "is that is difficult to build, and so painfully easy to tear down. And," he added, a small smile crinkling the creases in his eyes, "the problem with pity...."

"Is that it is a one-sided sympathy," Domovoi finished.

"And not really a relationship at all. Yes."

That was a direct quote from a novel, or a very long research paper you might call it, which had taken a deep look at the emotions of human bonds. The book---_Relationships, As Seen By A Child, _one of the few books Artemis had written under his own name_---_had had the "vocabulary and poetic insight" of an expert, yet with "subtle wit and charm" as the _New York Times _had put it.

It had earned much praise and awards, one of the reasons being it was written by a six-year-old.

"Well," Butler said briskly, killing the emotionally-deep atmosphere, "As they say, 'the weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is an attribute of the strong.' They _would _help you, Artemis."

That brought a smile to Artemis's face. "Mahatma Gandi's doctrine, isn't it?"

"If you say so," Butler shrugged with a small grin. "And don't change the subject."

"I can't help it if I change the subject," Artemis said dryly. "I am evasive by nature."

"You're doing it again."

Artemis's lips twisted in what could have been a smirk. "As I said, it's natural. Impossible not to. Just like my incurable allure for crime."

"_Artemis_."

The genius pressed his lips together tightly.

Throughout this conversation, the two had been walking down through the carpeted hall. Reaching a doorway, the two of them entered Artemis's study. They sat themselves down, Artemis in his desk chair, and Butler on the couch. For a while, they both stared at each other silently.

Scattered papers rustled slightly as Artemis rested his arms on them. He'd neglected to clean up his research, lately, what with time-travelling and all.

Butler didn't say a word. Granted, he didn't need to. His eyes told it all.

Artemis groaned and put his head in his hands. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"No, Artemis."

There was a small twitch of the slender piano fingers.

Slowly, he slid his face out of his hands, leaving his fingertips touching his cheekbones.

"Why won't you....?" Artemis looked even paler than normal, and his eyes were impossibly large on his face. His fingers trembled on his skin. "Just...let this go....?"

Domovoi leaned forward with determination in his eyes. "When you need help, when you _absolutely need it, _whether you want it or not, you're going to get it."

* * *

**HAVEN--SECTION 8**

**Present**

"Signal....signal....D'arvit, where is he? He's always in his study!" Foaly tapped the screen impatiently.

Currently, in Fowl Manor, there was a small beeping sound coming from Artemis's computer. Although, unfortunately, Artemis was not in his study----a novel experience.

"Pick up the stupid signal!" Foaly muttered. "This is worse than telephones."

"We can always leave a message," Vinyaya suggested.

Foaly snorted. "Yeah, that'll go over well. 'Hey Arty, did you, by any chance, probe Atlantis lately for your own evil purposes?'"

"Not classy at all," Qwan said.

Foaly began tapping the screen again with a hairy finger. _Beep. _The beeping continued. _Beep... Beep._.._ Beep._

_I really need to fix that beeping,_ Foaly thought. _No wonder Mud Men are so short-tempered. Infernal cave-man machines._

"I'm hungry," N°1 said randomly.

"Me too," said Holly, picking at her last pieces of rice.

"Why can't you _share?" _N°1 pouted.

_Beep._

"I'm all done." She stuffed the last mushroom in her mouth quickish.

"Liar!" N°1 wailed.

"Just how hungry are you?" Foaly asked. "I have some lovely cartons of beetle juice."

_Beep._

N°1 visibly blanched. "No thanks. Not that hungry."

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

_B---_

_"Hello?" _Domovoi Butler's voice came over the speaker. "_Is this Holly?"_

Foaly shot a horsey grin at Holly.

"They automatically think it's you, huh?" he said, and pressed the answer button before Holly could retort. Butler's aging face appeared on the screen, standing above Artemis's computer. They watched as he awkwardly sat himself down in Artemis's rather small padded desk chair.

"Yeah, sugar," Foaly said to Butler in luverly falsetto. "This is Holly."

Holly's cheeks were red and she stabbed a finger."I do _not _sound like that, you horsey---"

"Foaly." Butler's voice came over the speaker quietly. "And hello, Holly," he added in a slightly warmer tone.

"N°1's here too," N°1 piped up. "Hey!"

"Nice to see you too," Butler said. "In a matter of speaking," he added, his eyes not quite focusing on the screen. "You forgot a visual feed on my end."

_Dear Frond, he speaks more like Artemis every time I see him, _Holly thought. It must be contagious. She'd have to be careful.

Foaly snapped a finger. "That's what I forgot!" he exclaimed, and there was a rapid patter of typed keys.

Butler's eyes seemed to meet the other pairs of eyes, losing their vague focus.

"That's better," he said."It's nice to finally see you all. Now..... " His face hardened.

"_Is there any particular reason why you called?"_

Everyone flinched as his icy tone.

The assembly of fairies were abruptly frightened, a primal instinct envoked, even though--in all honesty--Butler would never hurt them and they were thousands of miles away from him at the moment. He would have put Ares, the Greek war patron, to shame.

Steadily, he gazed at the fairy assembly. Not a calm gaze, not a quiet gaze, but one of the ice about to crack and plunge you into dead water below.

Holly was the first to speak. "B-Butler?" she managed.

Holly remembered something Artemis had said once, a long time ago..."_Nobody ever calls me just to say hello." _Why did situations always happen to them? The drama and the excitement? Why couldn't things be normal?

"_Well?" _

Domovoi's eyes were flint---when he was truly furious, his anger was not explosively fiery, but icy cold with the storm roiling underneath. "Anything you'd care to tell me? Anything _at all_?"

"Butler? What's--" Foaly started. Holly cut his clumsy question off.

"Is...is Artemis there?" Holly asked tentatively. She almost cringed when Butler switched his stare to her.

Abruptly, any trace of steely anger vanished from Butler's face, to be replaced by open shock.

"You mean you _don't know?"_


	4. 3: Phantasmagoria

A/N: Meh. I rewrote this chapter _so_ many times and I'm still not satisfied with it. Ah, well. It's out, anyway.

Readers, give me critique and I will change my stupid mistakes. Such as: predictability, cliches, confusion of the readers, out-of-characterness, etc. Plus, my wonderful beta has now left me.(And sorry, people, my formatting is being stupid and won't center.)

Argh. I didn't believe in writer's block until now.

* * *

.---------.

A Сфмpℓєx Cфnunđяuм

_3: Phantasmagoria_

.---------.

* * *

**Haven City**

**.------.**

"Wh—what?" Foaly spluttered. "Don't know wh—"

"Don't know what?" Holly said, bewildered and more than a little frightened. "Butler?"

It was as if all of the fight and fury had drained out of the bodyguard. The cold fire in his eyes was gone--fatigue replaced it-- and the Eurasian man ran a hand over his face.

"You....don't know," he said softly, with a sort of finality. And then his hand clenched and his eyes flashed weary anger._"You don't know—"_

He stopped himself.

"What's—" Holly eyes, while already naturally large, were wide. Butler was worried out of his mind, she could tell. For that, something had to be horribly, terribly—"wrong? Stop it, D'arvit, tell us!"

"I. . . was hoping you knew," Butler murmured, his eyes were far away, lost in his thoughts. "I thought you'd know. You don't." His head snapped up. "You need to get up here _right now," _he said gravely.

"I—" A sudden thought struck Holly like a splash of cold water. "Butler—is it Artemis?"

He spoke quietly.

"Yes."

Her heart clenched.

"D'arvit, Butler, don't make us drag it out of you piecemeal," Foaly said, and then whinnied. "What the heck happened? Does this have anything to do with the probing?"

Domovoi's face tightened at that. "Just come to the Manor and I'll expl—"

Holly had had enough. She slammed a powerful fist down on the table. "No way in Hybras are we waiting any longer! You are _going to tell_ _me!" _she growled. _"_NOW!_ " _

That was her (quote, unquote) 'scary voice', and it worked the same way as a _mesmer_ did. That is, with immediate compliance.

Domovoi found his voice. "Foaly," he said quietly. "Is this connection secure?"

The centaur was thrown for a second—so thrown, in fact, he forgot to be offended at the question of his devices. "Yeah, sure. No one else has connections to the Manor. Why?"

_"Butler, what happened?" _That was Holly, growling.

Domovoi took a breath, and suddenly Holly _knew, _with a thrill of foreboding, this was the news, the terrible news—

"_Artemis..."_ Butler spoke slowly, hollowly. _"_Artemis is gone."

Something dropped, plummeted, inside of Holly, something that felt very familiar, and something she was pretty sure that she needed, something vital. . .

"I'll tell you." He looked unfathomably, inexplicably weary. This was a fatigue deeper than bone--it went to the soul. "I'll tell you all I can."

* * *

**Two Days Ago, Fowl Manor**

**.-------.**

In light of his bodyguard duties, Butler had chosen a room near Artemis's bedroom. 'Near' meaning, right next door.

At first, this arrangement had annoyed Artemis, as the genius had a tendency to wake up in the middle of the night and wander around the house. There were two reasons for this: One, inspiration would hit Artemis in his dreams, and he just _had_ to go write it down, no matter how late. And two, sometimes Artemis just wanted to be alone.

Both of which were apparently impossible when your bodyguard followed you. For your safety, of course.

But after some very convincing logical arguments, Butler had won and stayed right where he was. And Artemis had learned to walk so quietly even fairies, with their naturally keener hearing, from their naturally bigger ears, couldn't hear him approach.

But on that one night, it hadn't mattered.

_"Aaaaa—!"_

The walls were so thin that on that night, Butler heard the cut-off scream. He knew the voice. Nothing else could have spurred him out of bed so quickly, a scream from _Artemis_.

But when he reached the room, he was too late. Always too late.

Throwing open the door, he—

Stopped.

The room was empty.

The window was open, curtains fluttering, and the cold breeze of February blew through the room. The room, always so neat, so tidy, in typical Artemis fashion, now had sheets and pillows flung on the floor. As if someone had flailed in the covers.

In the middle of the bare bed, on the white cotton fabric, were a few scarlet dots, splattered. Tiny bloodstains, nothing fatal.

And right next to the bloodstains was Artemis's fairy communicater. A thin ring, illegally given to him by Holly Short. _That has to mean something, _Domovoi thought in a detached, unreal manner. None of this seemed real, like a nightmare. _He never takes it off. There must be a meaning to that._

These, the blood and the fairy ring, were all that had been left behind by their owner.

Artemis was gone.

* * *

**Present, Haven City**

**.----------.**

Domovoi stopped speaking. He'd told them a condensed version of what had happened that night, omitting the roiling emotions and fear that had torn through him. They didn't need to hear that.

"What do you mean, he's....?" Holly sat down sharply. "He's not _dead!" _Artemis Fowl, dead in such an unspectacular manner, quietly—_impossible_. Her head snapped up. "Is he?"

Butler was never one to mince or sugarcoat words, despite his kind heart. "We have no idea," he said.

"So he's just..." Holly closed her eyes. "Missing?"

And then everyone exploded. Loudly.

"He's not—"

"_How the—"_

"We've got to—"

"And w_hat_ do you want us to do?" Surprisingly, Vinyaya stood up at this. She continued, "And what _can _we do? This is not our problem. What the humans do is not our concern, and if they're our friends it's a different story, but at the moment—"

"What?" Holly shot her a look as she realized what the Commander was saying. "This is our _friend. _We can't just leave this alone!"

"Holly." Vinyaya put her hands softly on the table and looked Holly in the eyes. "Yes, he's our friend. I've met him, Holly, and I have to admit I even like him at times, but the point is—"

"He's our one of our only human allies," Foaly added. "Vinyaya, we can't afford to lose him."

_"Listen to me!" _Vinyaya said sharply. "This is not the priority! _Artemis Fowl _is not the priority! We have a _crisis _on our hands, if you haven't forgotten!"

Oh.

"The probing," Foaly said, looking torn. They all had the same expression—unsettled and ripped between two decisions. Their friend or their people.

"If Artemis was here. . ." Holly's eyes moved from face to face. "He'd solve this."

"We..." Foaly bit his lip. "Holly, we can't—"

"Who probed us?" Vinyaya said. "Last time he solved this because it was _him. _He'd probed us, even if it was accidentally. Since he's gone, and he was—_is _on relatively good terms with the People, it's not him this time."

"He could still figure out who it was," Holly argued.

"Captain Short." Vinyaya walked over to her and put a hand on the auburn-haired elf's shoulder. The Wing Commander spoke gently. "I understand you're worried. I know you care about him." Holly jerked slightly, hardly noticeably. "He's your friend, after all, and if I've understood this correctly, you've saved each other's lives repeatedly."

"Commander—" Holly said, working to keep her face straight.

"I understand that completely. Jul—" Vinyaya broke off. "Commander Root and I were much the same way. We saved each other's lives more than once, more than twice, actually." A faint smile crossed her face, like she remembered a long-forgotten inside joke. "But we never let that get in the way of what we had to do. We were there, risking our lives, to save our People."

_She...she really cared about him,_ Holly thought. Something like a sadness filled her up inside, covering the frantic worry. _I never knew._

"So, Captain Short," Vinyaya said, her voice switching to a brisk mode. "Our personal troubles are nothing compared to the People's safety. We have to remember that, or, frankly, we'll go insane."

That startled a grin out of Holly.

"That's it," Vinyaya said, smiling at Holly's expression. "We'll help Artemis, Captain Short, but only after this crisis."

The grin faded.

"It's probably only a false alarm," Foaly added. "Remember the incident of '44? Pixies and their fish, I swear."

Vinyaya shot him a look, like—_Back off. _She turned back to Holly, silver hair falling to the side in a stream. "Okay, Holly?" she said softly.

Holly took in a breath, and slowly let it out in a sigh. _For the People._ Always for the People. Sometimes she wished the People could save its own self. It was in trouble far too often. _Well, _she thought with a mental sigh, _it's what I signed up for when I got in Recon, I guess._

"Alright, Commander," she said quietly.

With something like a nod, Vinyaya smiled. Turning around, she started walking back to her seat.

"And—Commander?" Holly said.

Vinyaya turned around, arching her eyebrow slightly.

"It's Major Short, now," Holly said.

* * *

Domovoi felt—well, he didn't know what he felt. Worry, certainly. Fear for Artemis, of course.

But he was surprised (another emotion) to feel. . .anger. And hurt. He was far too disciplined to show it, but it was a close thing. The fairies would ignore a cry for help, from one of their friends, for the sake of a crisis. He understood _why, _but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Guilt also played a part.

"You'd..." Domovoi stopped.

Everyone turned to his screen. They'd forgotten he was there, in all of the drama happening around--and to-- Holly. Expressions flitted across each of their faces—mostly guilt, sadness, and even pity. Vinyaya was hit with it the worst of it; Domovoi could see that in her body language, even though her face was perfectly under control.

"Oh," she said, and her eyes tightened. Saving the People required sacrifices. "We. . .I'm so sor--"

"_Don't_." The words sounded harsh even to his own ears. "Just—don't."

"Butler," Holly said quietly. She didn't know what to say. "I'm. . ."

"Mr. and Mrs. Fowl are leaving this evening," Domovoi interrupted. His voice was lifeless. "I've managed to make excuses for the past two days over Artemis's _disappearance." _They all flinched. "Juliet's helped with the charade; the family thinks that Artemis is sick with flu in bed, sleeping."

_Flu, _Holly thought. _Just like Artemis's mother supposedly had. It's a wonder his parents didn't notice he's gone, they should be worried he'd caught the same thing as his mum. Juliet must be a good actor. _Holly had a mental picture of Juliet huddled under the covers, trying to imitate Artemis's cultured voice and coughing occasionally.

Domovoi continued in his dead voice. "Angeline and Artemis Senior are leaving with the twins for France tonight. They're going to visit the Paradizo's. I've managed to convince them that Artemis will be fine staying behind with Juliet and me, but they're going to say good-byes to him. That means they're going to have to see his face."

"What do you want us to do?" Foaly said quietly.

"I'll go," N°1 said. "I can make a hallucinational conjuration of Artemis. They'd never know the difference."

"You're not going,"Qwan said.

"_What?_ Why not?"

"Last time you went above ground, my star student was stuffed in a barrel of fat, a time paradox was created, we now have two Opal's in this world, and there was no one to stir my coffee." Qwan liked coffee. Preferably with lots of sugar, even though the coffee beans were scientifically proven to be detrimental to your health.

"I _have _to go," N°1 said. "This is all I can do."

"Nope," Qwan said, "I'm going. It's been ages since I've felt proper ground beneath my feet. And you, my pupil, while exceptional at hallucinational conjurations, can't do the voices."

"I am too," Holly said decisively. Then, looking at the expression on Vinyaya's and Foaly's faces, she added, "It'll only be for two hours, round trip. And like N°1 said, it's all I can do."

Slowly, Vinyaya nodded. Some battles were won by retreating.

"It's settled, then, " Domovoi said, and the screen died to black as he severed the connection.

* * *

**Present, Undisclosed Location**

**.--------.**

Knowing big words comes with being a genius. It's a given.

_Phantasmagoria._

A shifting series of illusions, like a fever. Images flitted over your eyes and mind, and then flitted away. Imagination worked against you. Memories whirled through your consciousness—the good, the bad, and the regrets in your past.

_Sometimes his mother was there, in her _insane fits_, with the smell of sick lilies, not recognizing her own son..._

_Holly was there, looking at Artemis, mouth open wide, with _contempt for a criminal _burning in her eyes..._

_His father, in the hospital bed with a prosthetic leg, asking him: "When the time comes, will you do the right thing?" Artemis _didn't know_, didn't know..._

Fractured images. Yes, that's what Artemis would call it.

_Phantasmagoria._

The one time he emerged from this state was—as he later worked out—the one time the drugs wore off.

And then, of course, they'd drugged him again. The mysterious _'they_.' A sharp stab of a needle, and he was gone again, victim to the swirling blackness.

But not before he'd seen a brief flash of pointy ears.

* * *

.---------.

A/N: For the readers who could maturely take the suspense and not immediately skip over the drama to the punchline (you know, Arty missing and all that), you get brownie points. Kudos to you.

Ha ha—of course he's missing! EVERYONE kidnaps Arty, haven't you realized that? It's like a recreational activity. A sport for villains. But I bet you can't guess who kidnapped him, heh heh...

I'm going to rewrite this chap later, so I'd like some critique, please. (As said before, my beta reader has left me, so if any of you have suggestions, readers, I'd be grateful...)


	5. 4: Oh, d'Arvit

...

Chapter 4: Oh, d'Arvit

A Сфмpℓєx Cфnunđяuм

...

* * *

**Undisclosed Location**

Unfortunately, Artemis Fowl had had a lot of experience of waking up from an unconscious (not just sleeping) state. This tended to happen when meglomaniacs took a grudge when you saved the world from them. So when he woke up in a grey, bland room with a sour taste in his mouth, he put two and two together.

_I was knocked unconscious,_ he thought, running his tongue over his teeth, and grimaced at the taste. _And drugged._

He sighed. _Why does this always happen?_

Looking around, he saw that his first impression of the room was the _only _impression; the small square room had grey slabs for walls and the same for the floors. There was one cot, a bed to sleep in; it was short, but at least it had clean sheets. It was drab. It was depressing. It practically _screamed _'prison.'

Artemis looked down and saw that his fingers were shaking. He closed them to stop the tremors. The vibrating didn't calm, just became tighter and more concentrated in his fists.

On his wrists, rattling slightly, were a pair of handcuffs.

_Oh, D'arvit, _he thought, rather uncharacteristically.

* * *

**Enroute to Fowl Manor**

After much arguing, emotional displays, not-so-subtle "soothing" comments from Foaly, near magical explosions from the demon warlocks, and a lot of headache from Holly, they were finally in the shuttle heading to Fowl Manor.

The melodrama had stemmed from one problem: N°1 had wanted to come along to Fowl Manor. And Qwan was against that. The conversations had gone something like this, for what seemed like an hour:

"No! It's not _fair!" _

"It's very f—"

"You can't make me! Why?"

"Because I said so."

And so on. It was ridiculously repetitive.

"You," Qwan had finally declared with a furious shaking finger, "are the most magical warlock we've _ever had. _You are worth an astronomical amount to the People! You can accomplish things the rest of our deceased warlock brothers could never imagine, never dream of! You will change the world someday, and I will _not _let you risk yourself like this!"

"How can I change the world someday," N°1 had yelled back, "if I can't even save a friend _now_?"

Qwan had been quiet for a few moments. But only a few. He then stuck four fingers into N°1's naval, and the little warlock had collapsed, unconscious. Qwan had withdrawn his hand, which was buzzing with magical sparks.

"There's hard choices to make," Qwan had said sadly.

Holly sat with her head in her hands, as the shuttle bumped and jocked around the three passengers: Holly, Qwan, and one security personnel, the pilot. _So, one of my friends is unconscious, knocked out by his own teacher, _thought Holly. _Butler seems suspicious of the People. The People are in a state of high alert, and one of my best friends is the suspect. And that friend is currently missing to the world, possibly dead. _

And as an after-thought, one that she had unfortunately thought more than she should have had to over the years: _I never got to say good-bye to him._

But apparently a good sense of guilt never dulled. And that was a positive thing to note, since she most certainly deserved it.

* * *

**Undisclosed Location**

_It's most likely one of my previous enemies, _Artemis thought. _They all seem like the type to lock me in a cell and then laugh at it for days on end. My nemesis's sense of humor was never very refined._

He'd been in this cell—this tiny, claustrophobic little cell—for nearly a twelfth of a day now. He'd been counting. About 2 hours, give or take. No food, no water, no company. A heavily locked door for decoration.

His fingers had refused to stop shaking, in all that time.

_Could they know...? _Artemis wondered. _No, they only put me in here because it was most likely convenient. That, or they want information, and they'll leave me here for awhile to "convince" me to give it...They couldn't have known. __They couldn't have known this was the most efficient course of action when it comes to me..._

**Fowl Manor**

"Arty?"

Artemis's mother poked her head around the corner of Artemis's bedroom door. There was a small bundle of blankets on top of his bed that didn't stir when she asked for a second time, "Arty?"

No response.

"Oh..." Angeline whispered, and withdrew her head to look at her husband, who was standing a little ways down the hall. "He's sleeping. Good. He never sleeps enough—he looks like a vampire sometimes."

Underneath the covers, Juliet tried not to shake with laughter. It was nice to see she wasn't the only one who thought Artemis didn't look quite human.

"Are you sure he's not too sick? Should I stay home with him, Timmy?" Angeline asked her husband anxiously.

"If anyone stays home with him, it should be me," Artemis Sr. said, smiling at his adorable wife. Sometimes she reminded him of a flighty bird, a protective mother hen. Her breathy voice strengthened that illusion. "You love France too much—and visiting the Paradizos. But either way, Artemis will insist we go. Somehow I don't think he'd appreciate us staying here to look after him; his pride wouldn't allow it."

Angeline sighed. "He does have an independent streak, doesn't he? He doesn't need to be babysat."

_"MOMMY!"_

"He's lying! Don't believe him!"

Beckett raced through straight to Angeline's skirts, with Myles trailing behind. "Mommy!" Beckett cried, taking two fists of Angeline's dress.

"What's wrong, babe?" she said, smoothing his curls. She shot Myles a stern look. The "Mommy" look. He squirmed.

"I—Myles said—simpletoon!" Beckett babbled. "And then the monkey was an insult, and he kept the titles, and—"

"He. . .What?" Angeline said blankly, throwing Artemis Sr. a questioning glance. He shrugged helplessly and just smiled. "Boys, you can't play rough, now," she said, turning back.

"I wasn't!" Myles said imploringly. "We were just—"

"—and called simpletoon because of me loving coffee!" Beckett finished his dire accusations, and looked over at his twin triumphantly, sticking out his tongue. Myles retaliated likewise.

Angeline sighed. "Let's get you away from your brother, now," she said, and began herding the twins away. "You're far too loud, and he's sleeping." The boys continued bickering, and Artemis Sr. followed, trying to smother his laughter. Soon they were down the hall and fading from earshot.

Juliet exhaled.

* * *

**Delapidated Garden, Fowl Manor**

There was a small section in the grounds of Fowl Manor that was not tended by gardeners. It was an overgrown, weedy, jungle mess far from the eyes of the Manor inhabitants that would strike fear into the heart of the stoutest gardener. "Nobody would see it anyway," they rationalized, and left Mother Nature in her natural fearsome state (from a gardener's point of view, anyway).

It proved a most excellent hiding spot for fairies and their various fairy-made devices. Conveniently enough. The shuttle touched down with nothing but a shimmer.

Butler sat on a fallen log, waiting. He didn't have to wait long, as Holly and the demons jumped out, accompanied by a single security personnel. "Hello, Holly," Butler said, smiling slightly—not much—and standing up. "Qwan. And who's this?"

"This is our security," Holly said, rolling her eyes discreetly.

_Security _didn't say a word, just adjusted his weapon, with his helmet visor completely covering his face. At least Butler assumed he was male. With any fairies (besides pixies), it was hard to tell.

"His name?" _Or hers? _

"Captain Vein," he said, in a voice low and husky from disuse.

_So he's a man, _Butler thought. _Let's hope he's not trigger-happy. Last thing I need at the moment. _"Well, Captain, you're going to have to be perimeter check, unless you're comfortable with shielding full-time," he said aloud.

"Shielding's fine," Vein said quietly. "As long as I can stay close." He inclined his head toward the other fairies.

That wasn't what Butler wanted, but he nodded and started making his way toward the Manor's back entrance. The fairies followed at a distance, having trouble with the large fallen logs and such.

* * *

"Juliet?" Butler called gently, with brotherly kindness. The large bundle of covers in Artemis's bed grumbled and stirred a bit. "Juliet, wake up." Butler tickled her feet, catching her foot as it kicked out at him.

"Jul_-i_-et!" The brotherly kindness had all but disappeared. Holly snickered as Butler whipped off the covers. Juliet curled into a ball and scowled at Butler with sleepy eyes.

"So this is this what you've been doing the whole time?" Holly smirked. "Sleeping in the double-wide bed?"

"_What?" _Juliet sat bolt upright. "Is that Holly?"

"Hmmm," Holly said, crossing her arms and grinning. "Who else is 2'9 and allowed to tease you mercilessly?"

"It _is _you!" The blonde launched out of that bed and wrapped the elf in a bear hug. "Thank goodness you're here! Now you can get us out of this mess and I don't have to sleep all day!"

"But it _is _a very comfy bed," Holly said, disentangling herself.

"Yes, it is," Juliet sighed and looked at it longingly. "Feather, you know."

Holly shared a wicked look with Butler. "You do realize you've been sleeping in Artemis' bed for three days, don't you?" she snickered. This was going to make for great ammunition later.

Juliet opened her mouth wide, and two pink dots appeared on her face, which was still pale from sleeping horizontally. An expression of dawning comprehension. Or horror. "Well, don't say it like _that," _she muttered. "It's not like that."

"Oh, so it doesn't bother you?" Holly said innocently.

Even Butler and Qwan cracked smiles as Juliet went even more scarlet.

* * *

**Undisclosed Location.**

"...Only, from the long line of spray  
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,  
Listen! you hear the grating roar  
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,  
At their return, up the high strand,  
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,  
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring  
The eternal note of sadness in..."

Artemis could not remember the next line, for the life of him. He hands shook. His mouth was dry. He knew, _he knew, _it couldn't have been more than a few hours in this place, but he couldn't calm down, it seemed so much longer...

He'd taken reciting poetry to soothe his nerves. _Dover Beach, _by Matthew Arnold.

"Sophocles long ago  
Heard it on the Agean, and it brought  
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow  
Of human misery; we  
Find also in the sound a thought,  
Hearing it by this distant northern sea..."

* * *

**Fowl Manor**

BAM!_ Thwock, thwock, thwock. _

Holly jumped violently, snapping into a shield. "What the heck was that?" she hissed, as her mouth vibrated into invisibility.

"Boys! Quiet down, you're brother's sleeping," came Artemis Sr.'s muffled call from the hallway. A chorus of "_sorry, dad"'s _followed.

Butler shook his head. "False alarm," he said, and went to knock on the bathroom door as Holly cursed and unshielded. "Juliet? You done yet?"

"Done blushing?" Holly remarked.

"Oh, shut up," came Juliet's mutter.

Unnoticed, Qwan went to the window. It was quite beautiful, on the surface. He'd forgotten. The trees, the light, the smell, the clean air tinged with a touch of pollutant that reminded him of his volcano...

He'd just laid a hand on the window pane, and Holly had perched on a bedpost in the center of the room like a bird, when there was a light knock on the door.

"Arty? I'm coming in," Angeline whispered as she opened the door. "I came to..._oh... _oh dear..."

* * *

**Undisclosed Location**

"...The Sea of Faith  
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore  
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.  
But now I only hear  
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,  
Retreating, to the breath  
Of the night wind, down the vast edges drear  
And naked shingles of the world."

"Ah, love—" Artemis choked for a moment, and continued. "Ah...

"Ah, love, let us be true  
To one another! for the world, which seems  
To lie before us like a land of dreams,  
So various, so beautiful, so new,  
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,  
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;  
And we are here as on a darkling plain  
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,  
Where ignorant armies clash by night..."

_Click. Whoosh._

The door opened, and Artemis whipped his head around.

"Oh, _d'Arvit_," Assistant Reece cursed. "You're alive!"

* * *

**Notes: **_Dover Beach _by Matthew Arnold is not my creation. I only heard of it from Fahrenheit 451.


End file.
